


happy at home

by Anonymous



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, Love, M/M, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: joe would never have guessed, not in a million years, that his slight crush on the man he was playing in a film would spiral into this; into him being curled up under john deacon's - actual john deacon's - arm, sleepy and warm, some thousands of miles away from home and struggling to stay awake in the rock legend's bed.





	happy at home

the morning began - as most mornings do - with a sunrise. joe opened his eyes just as the orange light was starting to feebly push its way in through the blinds. 

he lay still for a long time, sleepy and warm, limbs heavy with sleep. the blankets were tangled around his legs, deliciously trapping him in their downy grasp.

the morning  _ really _ began - as most mornings did - with a kiss on the back of the neck from john. it was a wordless conversation; silent, beautiful speech.  _ good morning my love. i'm ready to spend a new day with you.  _

joe rolled over to look at him, and their faces were too close together. neither of them cared much; they didn't need to see. 

“good morning,” john whispered, and his voice was thick with sleep. joe responded with a lazy kiss and a very unceremonious arm slung around his middle. he closed his eyes once more, nestling himself against the other man exactly where he fit perfectly. they didn't speak. it was rare that this situation lasted this long; too often they were torn apart by joe needing to leave. too often, he found himself in london for work, rather than for his own reasons. 

but today? today they were free. today, they would stay tangled together all day if they so pleased.

john placed a kiss on the top of joe's head.

“mornin’,” joe mumbled into his neck, accent thick this early in the morning. john still felt a spike of something indescribable when he was reminded that this young, beautiful, american boy was in love with him. like pride mixed with hope; admiration mixed with a stab of something negative. jealousy? no, surely. bitterness? perhaps. time and fate were cruel to them; they'd been dealt an unfair hand. regret? fear? doubt? he wasn't sure. he tried not to dwell on it.

he didn't really care. he'd have time to realise his feelings later, when joe inevitably got back on the plane to new york and they kissed a thousand times and they both left the gate with teary eyes, then john could go home and ponder his own emotions over a handle of whiskey. 

but right now joe was here. there was no room in john's head for anything more than positives; love and trust and thoughts of the way joe seemed to meld against him so perfectly, as if they'd been made for each other. 

joe would never have guessed, not in a million years, that his slight crush on the man he was playing in a film would spiral into  _ this _ ; into him being curled up under john deacon's -  _ actual john deacon's _ \- arm, sleepy and warm, some thousands of miles away from home and struggling to stay awake in the rock legend's bed.

sleep's downy tendrils tugged at him again, and he wanted so badly to succumb to their pull. he wanted to sleep in john's arms until the world ended - or until one of them got kind of hungry or had to get up to pee.

he knew his time with john was limited; he knew all too acutely how at any second this amazing thing could be ripped away from him. it was a scar that never healed, and this was but a temporary bandage. he tried not to dwell on it. he knew that wouldn't help. it wouldn't change things: how could it? voicing his concern wouldn't turn back time and change the course of history. this was just the hand they'd been dealt. 

joe shook his head of his negative thoughts and pressed his face into john's shoulder. he smelled like jasmine and tea and the faintest hint of smoke.

his arms were comfortable. joe didn't want to move ever. he felt like he belonged here. like they were meant to be this close. he never ached for home when he was in london, not like he ached for london when he was at home. but then, was it london? or was it just john?

he wasn't sure. it didn't really matter

john kissed his hair gently. joe smiled even though he couldn't see. 

“joe,” the older man all but whispered, breath hot against the other's neck. 

“hm?”

“i love you.”

joe faltered for a moment. 

_ john deacon said he loves you john deacon said he loves you john deacon said he loves you john deacon said he loves you.  _

he'd heard it before, a million times, john said it to him every day. but it still made his heart skip a beat. he loved it more than anything. he loved _ john _ more than anything. he was the luckiest man alive.

“i love you too.”

 


End file.
